


dear soulmate: it was worth the wait

by aalphard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, although it's not really important, domestic banter, kind of, minor daisuga + matsuhana i regret nothing, they cry a lot as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalphard/pseuds/aalphard
Summary: Each night, he would dream ofbeautifulgreen eyes and the brightest smile he had ever seen. Each night, he would find himself tucked under his blankets, urging himself to fall asleep quicker so that he could see it again, so he could try and find out who it was that he was seeing. Each night, he would stare at his soulname in the dark, tracing the words with his finger, trying to think about that day at the park when he was little, the day his soulname appeared. There were so many kids – it was impossible to remember their faces. And they didn’t even ask for each other’s names. Tooru wondered if his Hajime spent their nights like this, staring up at the ceiling and thinking back to that day.or oikawa tooru is part of the unfortunate group of people that misses the chance to meet their soulmates.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 272





	dear soulmate: it was worth the wait

**Author's Note:**

> it’s actually the first time i’m writing a soulmate au i am NERVOUS
> 
> based on these prompts:
>
>> “soulmate au where the persons name shows up on your wrist but only on the day you’re supposed to meet them”
>> 
>> “wait you’re not the roommate i requested”
> 
> (also i didn't proofread so i apologize in advance for any grammar and/or spelling errors you might encounter!) 

_Dear Soulmate_ _  
It almost feels like I have a debt to pay  
Only to be fixed by paying attention to you  
One burden I don't find myself to be in dismay  
For I know that somehow, you carry the same load too_

_([by Lika Mizukoshi on hellopoetry](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1475066/a-letter-to-my-soulmate/))_

* * *

It’s the first thing they teach you at school – not math, not biology, not physics. They don’t need to, but they do it anyway. They don’t need to because your parents tell you when you’re first learning how to say your name, when you’re first getting on your feet. It’s drummed into you all the time – when you say your first words, when you blink up curiously at them for the first time, when you’re taking your first stumbling steps, holding onto their hands for support. It’s your lullaby, the first thing you hear in the mornings and the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

For him, it always seemed magical.

But it was also pretty scary.

What if they didn’t like him? His mother used to tell him lots about it, that sometimes you’d meet your soulmate but you wouldn’t realize it until it was too late, because when you happened to miss them, it was very unlikely that you’d meet again. The soulname appeared on your wrist on the day you were supposed to meet your soulmate and it wouldn’t go away, permanently etched onto your skin like a tattoo.

The soulname wouldn’t go away even if your soulmate died. The name would simply lose its color and end up like a scar, forever reminding you of the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with.

_Can that happen?_ , he’d ask, and his mother would just chuckle. _Yes_ , she’d say, _but you’d have to be very unfortunate._

This bond cannot be broken.

Anyone, absolutely anyone, can have your name on their wrists – and they could be anywhere in the world. Sometimes, a person never even got to meet their soulmate, wrists bare and clean.

Sometimes, people would go insane because of it – it was _too much_ , especially when they didn’t even realize they’d met them and let them go in the first place. It was a scary thing, having a soulname, Tooru thought.

Tooru always stared at his wrists first thing in the morning, looking for any trace of a name, something that meant he’d finally meet his destined one. He thought his soulmate was someone who was supposed to care for him no matter what – just like his parents cared for one another. He often wondered, before he went to bed and first thing in the morning, how they’d look like. Would they be pretty? Would they think _he_ was pretty?

When he first started school, he’d ditch his friends and walk around the neighborhood for a few hours, not really watching where he was going, staring at his wrist and hoping he’d see a name written down. He did that a lot – and sometimes he even missed curfew and end up grounded for a week.

His parents told him it was going to be alright – most of the time, people only met their soulmates in high school and sometimes they didn’t meet them until they started college. He still had a few years before that, so he didn’t need to worry. But Tooru knew sometimes people would meet their soulmates at a very young age and he didn’t want to miss them and end up never meeting them ever again.

That’s why he was thrilled when his parents offered to take him to the park on a weekend.

With so many people around, it was almost guaranteed he’d meet his destined one, right? Or that’s what he thought, being an overly-excited seven-year-old. He let his mother comb his hair and dress him up in a fluffy jumper. It was cold out, she’d said, and as much as he wanted to lay his wrists in front of him and look at them every other second, he decided he’d keep them hidden from the cold. He’d check them when they got to the park.

Except he didn’t.

There were so many _things_ happening and so many kids running around that he didn’t even bother to check his wrist, to check if his soulname had appeared. He wasn’t really thinking about his soulname when an adorable little boy with a quirky smile, thick eyebrows and sweet green eyes showed up in front of him, grabbing his hand and talking about looking for bugs and climbing trees, about cotton candy and dinosaurs, Godzilla and Superman.

They played together for hours and hours, their parents seemingly gone, nowhere in sight, and they didn’t even care. Tooru didn’t even think about his soulname – not even once, despite meeting so many new people. They didn’t ask for each other’s names because it didn’t matter. They didn’t look at their wrists, not even once, because it was too cold and because it was so much fun they couldn’t think about anything else.

Tooru grew really fond of the green-eyed boy. He left first, before Tooru could ask his name.

And then he went home, excitedly telling his parents about the friends he’d made that day, about what they’d eaten and what happened when _that silver-haired one almost fell down but then the biggest of us grabbed him before that happened_ or when _that boy with the mad face started running around and calling everyone an idiot and_ – while his parents just smiled at him, nodding and chuckling along with his stories.

_That was so much fun_ , he thought, smiling to himself while taking off his clothes so he could get in the bath. _I wish we’d talked more, though._

It’s only when he took off his jumper and threw it on the floor that he saw it there, _finally_ , his soulname – but he wasn’t happy. He wanted to scream and cry and he _did_ and his parents opened the door in a hurry because they thought he might’ve hurt himself but he was on his knees, sobbing, and he was _so sad_ because he knew he might never meet his soulmate again.

_Oh, Tooru_ , his mother shushed him, patting his hair and stroking soothing circles on his back. _It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. It happens! You’ll find each other again, I promise._

Tooru wanted to believe her.

Because he couldn’t bear the thought of having a stranger’s name on his skin for the rest of his life – of trying to find them in every crowd, in every new person that comes up to him.

Tooru allowed himself to cry.

After that day, the entire premise of having a soulmate sounded really bad. He started to think that the idea that he was supposed to fall desperately in love with someone simply because they bore each other’s names on their wrists was… preposterous. Ridiculous, even. Who even cared about that? It was _stupid_ , he kept telling himself, _and it doesn’t matter because I’ll find someone to love eventually. And it’s not going to be because their name is on my wrist_.

But it didn’t stop him from looking everywhere.

At his elementary school, there were twelve boys called Hajime. Tooru didn’t feel like any of those could ever be called his soulmate – none of them had a name on their wrists and they made fun of him for having one. His Hajime wasn’t supposed to make fun of him, he thought, but protect him and love him unconditionally. He ruled them out.

When he got into middle school, it became a lot harder – there were sixteen boys called Hajime and seven girls. Some of them already had soulnames (and none of them bore his name) and some didn’t. But they labeled him as the weird, obsessive kid, and didn’t really stick around. His Hajime wouldn’t do that, label him as weird and cast him out. His Hajime would go along with his weirdness and call him sweet names, loving him unconditionally. He’d just have to keep looking and hoping that when he got into high school, they’d find each other again and everything would be alright.

Even if his mother had sat him down and told him that you just _knew_ , even without looking at their wrists, when you met your soulmate. It would click, somewhere inside of you, and you would just know.

Still, it didn’t stop him from looking, eagerly scanning the room, _every room_ , for the one person who’d have _Tooru_ written on their wrist – and he’d fantasized about it, about how he’d see his name and walk up to them and ask what their name was, and they’d answer _Hajime_ in the sweetest voice possible and they’d embrace each other and never be apart again. Tooru knew it was childish. But he was still looking.

He wondered if his Hajime was looking for him as well. He hoped they were.

In high school, he decided he’d stop looking.

(but he found out there were twenty-six Hajimes and none of them were _his_ Hajime.)

Each night, he would dream of _beautiful_ green eyes and the brightest smile he had ever seen. Each night, he would find himself tucked under his blankets, urging himself to fall asleep quicker so that he could see it again, so he could try and find out who it was that he was seeing. Each night, he would stare at his soulname in the dark, tracing the words with his finger, trying to think about that day at the park when he was little, the day his soulname appeared. There were so many kids – it was impossible to remember their faces. And they didn’t even ask for each other’s names. Tooru wondered if his Hajime spent their nights like this, staring up at the ceiling and thinking back to that day.

He’d wake up every morning and the first thing he did was stare at his soulname, just so he could make sure it still had color, to make sure he could still find his Hajime, somewhere. Whenever he thought no one was looking, he’d steal glances to his wrist, thinking about the green eyes that showed up in his dreams every night. _Is that Hajime?_ , he thought. It must be. It _has_ to be.

He’d find himself daydreaming during class, thinking about _who_ his Hajime would turn out to be. One of his friends had found his soulmate when they were heading home from school, at a convenience store, and he _yelped_ when there was a boy standing outside with his name on his wrist. _You’re a boy?!_ , he had screamed. But he was good now – they went out every weekend and Tooru didn’t like to admit it, but he was a little jealous. It was weird having their name but not _knowing_ them – especially when he was the only one who had a name on his wrist and didn’t go out with his soulmate every weekend.

He didn’t look for his Hajime in high school – at least not actively. But he did, sometimes, look around the Hajimes’ wrists to see if any of them had Tooru written on them. They never did.

Eventually, though, he gave up. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t find his Hajime ever again, that he’d have to bear a stranger’s name on his wrist for the rest of his life, seeing it turn into a scar one day without ever being a part of their story. And although he pretended he was fine with it, sometimes he still found himself staring at his soulname late at night when he couldn’t sleep, thinking about where his Hajime would be, what they’d be doing and if they ever thought about Tooru the same way he thought of them.

Whenever his friends brought it up, he did his best to pretend it didn’t affect him anymore. _So you’re telling me the universe decides that there’s someone out there who was meant for me all along?_ , he would say. _That’s bullshit_ , he would say. It might’ve fooled his friends and even his own family, but it didn’t make the lump in his throat go away, it didn’t stop him from crying out, all alone in his bedroom at night, muffling his sobs in his pillows. _Why did I have to miss them? Why wasn’t I more careful?_

But he was an overly excited seven-year-old in the midst of other overly excited children and it didn’t matter anymore because he missed his soulmate. He _missed_ them, in every sense of the world, and sometimes he felt like ripping his own heart out so it would stop hurting. _How weird is it_ , he caught himself thinking sometimes, _that I’m missing someone I don’t even remember meeting in the first place?_

Sometimes it hurt so much Tooru couldn’t help but skip school and spend his whole day wrapped up in his blankets, clutching his chest and staring at his wrist through his tears. He wondered if his Hajime spent their days like that as well, if it ever hurt them as much as it hurt him.

_Fucking soulnames_ , he thought more often than not. Eventually, he decided that the concept of having a soulmate was unimportant and frivolous and he decided he’d take no part in that whatsoever. Makki liked to make fun of him for using such pompous words when, in reality, he was just trying to say he wasn’t going to look for his Hajime anymore. Not that it was _easy_ – every time he heard the name, he’d instinctively look around for the one person in the world who was born for him, and every time he heard someone say his name when asked about their soulnames, Tooru would pay attention, trying to see for himself if that one random stranger could be, in fact, his Hajime. They never were. And it was fine. It was a _frivolous_ concept, after all. He didn’t want to be a part of it.

It was easy for Makki to make fun of him, Tooru thought. He went out with Mattsun every weekend and they were jointed at the hip, never leaving each other’s sides. Sometimes he dreamed of it – being close to his Hajime like his friends were all the time. Even though he said he didn’t want to look for them anymore, it still haunted his dreams sometimes. _This bond cannot be broken_ , he remembered. _Sometimes people went insane because of their soulnames_.

He might as well be going insane.

When he finally got into college, he thought he wouldn’t have to deal with the whole soulmate issue because Makki was with him and they were sharing a dorm room and everything would be fine. If he happened to stumble upon his soulmate, _great_ , he’d kick their ass and ask them why the hell did he have to wait this long before meeting them again. If he didn’t, he’d shrug it off and live his life as if he didn’t bear someone’s name on his wrist. It would be fine, he thought. He didn’t need _Hajime_ , whoever that was.

* * *

“Maybe the reason you’re such an asshole is because you haven’t actually met your soulmate yet,” it’s the first thing Tooru hears after putting down his boxes in his dorm room.

“Remind me why I’m still friends with you again?”

Koushi shoots him a bright smile in response.

“I told you I don’t believe in this shitty soulmate stuff,” he huffs, throwing himself onto his bed. “It’s bullshit all around. Just because people usually make it work with their _oh-so-lovely-fated-ones_ doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its flaws. It’s a shit system.”

“Everyone has a soulmate, Tooru,” he says, voice soft and sweet. “You’ll find them eventually. Maybe the day you met wasn’t actually supposed to be _the_ day. You’ll find them.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asks – because he doesn’t know what he wants anymore. He longs for someone he doesn’t even know, for someone whose face he’s never seen. “What if I just cover their name with concealer and never think about them again? I can make it work with someone else. It doesn’t have to be who the universe thought would be a good match for me.”

Koushi shrugs, scratching his head. Tooru asked him to come over so he could help him move in – too many boxes to carry and Makki wouldn’t move in for the next two days, so he’d have the dorm to himself. It was nice talking to him until they started to talk about his relationship with the _cute guy from the library, Tooru he’s gorgeous and guess what?!_ and how they’d known immediately they were fated to meet. Koushi wouldn’t shut up about him.

“You know,” he sighs, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’m happy for you. I’m happy you found your soulmate.”

Hazel eyes sparkle and a shy smile tugs his lips up. “Thanks,” is all he says back.

Tooru knows he has to leave. Tooru knows he has his own stuff to take care of – especially _now_ that he’s found his destined one, and the thought that all of his close friends have already found theirs makes something unpleasantly hot pool in his stomach. He was the one who first got a soulname, he was the one who met his soulmate before anyone else and _yet_ he was the one who didn’t even know what they looked like. He was the one who didn’t get to touch them and hear their voice and hold their hands. It’s a shit system, Tooru thinks to himself. It’s cruel and unpleasant.

He could only muster a groan when Koushi finally propped himself up and messed with his hair before he left. He said something about coming back to grab dinner with him later but by then he’d already hid his head beneath his pillows.

It’s because of that, Tooru tells himself, that he doesn’t mind when the door to his dorm room opens again and he stays there, not saying a word, because Koushi probably forgot his phone or his keys or something he might need before nighttime. It’s because of that, Tooru tells himself, that he doesn’t move when he hears someone clearing their throat because Koushi is probably pulling a prank and he doesn’t want to take part on that because he’s tired and his muscles are sore and he’s still salty about what Koushi said earlier.

But, Tooru comes to realize after a few minutes, it doesn’t sound like Koushi to stand there and not say a word. It doesn’t sound like Koushi, the way this person’s voice is raspy and slightly lower in tone. And it’s _not_ Koushi, Tooru realizes once he’s out of his soft cocoon, but someone with the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen – although the frown in his face ruins it a bit.

“Uh, hi?” he stutters, sitting up in a second. “Can I help you?”

He doesn’t say anything, sliding his bag out of his shoulders and sitting on the bed across from his. _Uh?_ , he thinks. _Rude?_ Because Tooru doesn’t know him – and although he’d very much _like_ to, there’s still a stranger in his dorm room and he’s sitting on what’s supposed to be Makki’s bed in two days and he doesn’t really know how to ask him to leave. He’s just too scary.

“Hi?”

“Yes?” he speaks up, finally, and Tooru swears his whole body is on fire. _A beautiful voice to match a beautiful face_ , he thinks to himself.

“Who are you?”

He feels stupid asking it and he almost regrets it when a pleased smirk tugs the man’s lips up. It’s not like he would _know_ – because, honestly, all he knows is that there’s an attractive guy sat at the other bed in his dorm room and Tooru doesn’t know why his heart is beating this fast, thumping loud in his ears and making it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Iwaizumi,” he says.

“Is that your last name or your given name?” Tooru asks just to be sure.

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know,” he snorts.

“Alright, _Iwa-chan,”_ two can play that game, Tooru thinks, smirking at a wide-eyed Iwaizumi. “What are you doing in my dorm room?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “This is also my dorm room.”

No, no, no. That can’t be. Because Makki was supposed to be his roommate, Makki was supposed to be the one Tooru woke up to every morning and the last person he saw before he went to bed because that would be _familiar_ and he wouldn’t have to be afraid if he was ever to have a breakdown in the middle of the night because Makki was already used to that. That and the fact that Tooru wouldn’t have to hide his soulname behind the sleeves of his jumpers. How embarrassing it would be for someone to know he let his soulmate escape him.

Tooru didn’t even realize his mouth was hanging open until Iwaizumi pointed it out.

“No, no, no!” he says, finally snapping out of it. “That can’t be! You’re not the roommate I requested!”

“Sorry, buddy…” he yawns, falling back onto the bed that was _supposed to be Makki’s bed_. “You’re also not the person I expected to see in my dorm room and you’re also very loud and I think your voice is kind of giving me a headache.”

Well. _Rude_ , Tooru thinks.

If there’s anything he knows, it’s definitely that _this guy is not his soulmate_. His Hajime wouldn’t be such a brute, he thinks. They wouldn’t mind his loud personality and they _definitely_ wouldn’t say his voice was _headache inducing_. How _dare_ he.

Tooru dares to look around the room and lock his eyes on the figure splattered across the bed in front of his. His hair is messy and he has horrible bags under his eyes and what seems to be a permanent frown stuck to his features even when he’s got his eyes closed. Tooru wants to ask if there’s anything bothering him – despite the fact that they weren’t each other’s requested roommates after all. He decides not to for various reasons, but most of all because he’s scary-looking and he definitely doesn’t want to start crying when he looks at him weirdly. _So much for a good first impression_ , he thinks.

He asks Koushi about him when they meet up for dinner at night. He asks everything he wants to know, if he’s also a freshman, what department he’s in, if he has any friends or a potential lover Tooru has to watch out for – because he doesn’t want to listen to them doing their thing when he’s _right there_. Koushi doesn’t know who he is and chuckles when Tooru tells him he’s the most scary person he’s ever met.

He tells him they didn’t share a word after that, putting away their stuff in silence. It felt so awkward Tooru felt like he was going to die – there was something gnawing at his entrails the whole time, and whenever their eyes met by accident, he felt like his heart might spontaneously combust. It was horrible and uncomfortable and he hated it.

He tells him he called Makki and yelled at him for not being there and not sharing his dorm room and then he cried because he didn’t want to share a room with _scary Iwa-chan_ , is what he said. He also tells him he might have liked his eyes more than he wanted to admit and that the quirky smile he shot towards him whenever he stumbled over his boxes made something twist in a funny way in his tummy.

“Do you think it might be him?” Koushi asks, a smirk tugging his lips up.

_No way_ , Tooru wants to say. But he might have been expecting him to be – because his eyes are a beautiful shade of green and his smile is adorably similar to that one he saw a long time ago, or maybe because he doesn’t mind his scary aura as long as he can look at him and get that quirky smile shot towards him every day.

“Why don’t you ask him about his soulname?”

“Are you kidding?” Tooru snorts. “That’s messed up. I’m not doing it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs. “Then why don’t you show him yours?”

“I’m not doing it,” he repeats, sipping his drink. “I’ll just have to bear with it for this semester. It’s not like it’ll be insanely hard to wear jumpers all the time. I just have to keep it hidden. Then, when the next semester comes, I’ll ask for another roommate.”

“Well, you did say he was hot,” Koushi points out before sipping his drink. “Why don’t you make the most of it? Since you don’t believe in the whole soulmate bullshit, as you said it earlier. What have you got to lose?”

“Easy for you to say when you’ve already found your soulmate,” Tooru scoffs. “And _besides_ , I know nothing about this guy. Yeah, he’s hot. Yeah, he’s got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen and _yeah_ , I’ll probably have to hide in the bathroom so I can jerk off to the sight of him with nothing but briefs on _but_ I’m not bitter to the point in which I’d try to make a move on someone who’s actually still hoping to find their destined one or whatever.”

Koushi giggles, shaking his head.

“You know, Daichi felt the exact same way about this whole thing,” he sighs. “And then we met and he was all sappy and he actually _cried_ when we introduced ourselves and ever since then, well, _you know_. My point is that they’ll come back to you eventually, your Hajime. And if it’s not your hot roommate, then you can tell them you couldn’t help it because they took too long to show up again. And besides, I doubt they haven’t done it with other people yet. Why couldn’t you do the same?”

The thought alone makes something unpleasantly hot pool in his tummy once again and Tooru thinks he’s going to be sick. _Of course they’d have done it with someone else_ , he thinks. _Who the hell waits for a faceless soulmate? Who the hell grows attached to a name on their wrists to the point in which it ends up stopping them from doing things?_

Bullshit, that’s what it was. He had been staring at the name written down on his skin, fantasizing about the person who’d have _his_ on their wrist, for more than ten years already. He was never interested in anyone else, never thought about doing anything with anyone that wasn’t the faceless stranger whose name was written on the inside of his wrist and _still_. How stupid was he, to think that someday he’d be able to meet them again?

He thinks to himself that it would be best to stock up on concealer from now on.

* * *

“Iwa-chan, do you believe in fate?”

“Huh?”

Tooru is currently sprawled across his bed, staring at a very displeased Iwaizumi, who had been staring at his computer with a very ugly frown for the last twenty minutes. Tooru doesn’t know what he’s thinking about, doesn’t know if it’s a hard essay he has to write, doesn’t know if he’s suddenly found out who his soulmate is and is trying to forget about them just like Tooru did over and over again for the last eleven years. And he _had_ been thinking that he couldn’t be the only person to think this whole system was bullshit. Fall in love with someone just because you had each other’s names on your wrists? Fall in love with someone because _the universe_ somehow decided you’d be each other’s perfect fit? Hell no.

“Do you believe in this soulmate system?”

He pretends he doesn’t see him gulp. And a low _no_ is all he gets back.

“Why?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Tooru wants to tell him he’s been watching him ever since they met. Tooru wants to tell him he sees him trying to cover up his wrist as if he’s ashamed of the name written there, as if he doesn’t want anyone else to know. Not that he’s not doing the same. Tooru wants to tell him he knows what it’s like to feel the need to hide a soulname when he was only a child and ended up missing the opportunity to be close to his destined one. Not that he cares about this now, he wants to add. But he doesn’t say anything – because it’s embarrassing and he wants to punch Koushi _and_ Daichi in the face for putting the idea in his head, bribing him with freshly baked cinnamon rolls and peppermint tea.

“No reason,” he lies, rolling over on his stomach. “Have you already found your soulmate?”

“Why?”

“Jeez, Iwa-chan,” he sighs. “I just want to get to know you better. We’ve been sharing a room for a month now, you know? I know nothing about you. And also! We didn’t even tell each other our first names! Are you scared we might be soulmates?”

“There is _no_ way you’re my soulmate, Shittykawa,” he grins and Tooru giggles.

“ _Mean_ , Iwa-chan!” he says. “That’s why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Who says I want a girlfriend?”

“A boyfriend, then.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

Tooru sits up, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah!”

“Please, shut up,” he smirks. “I can’t concentrate on my essay.”

So it _was_ an essay, Tooru thinks.

He wants to tell him he’s found his soulmate when he was a kid. He wants to tell him he found his soulmate and never saw them again because they didn’t talk about anything other than what they were going to do during the day, they didn’t ask for each other’s names, they didn’t check their wrists, not even once. And he wants to tell him he misses his soulmate every night, he wants to ask him if he’s ever heard him crying at night, clutching his pillow in a futile attempt to muffle his sobs because _it hurts_. He wants to tell him he doesn’t need to hide his wrist because he knows how it feels to miss someone whose face you don’t even know.

But he doesn’t say anything because Iwaizumi has a frown in his face and it seems that he won’t be done for a while. He flops down on his bed and turns towards the wall, clutching his pillow and burying his face on it. He doesn’t want to cry if Iwaizumi is going to be fully awake to listen to it.

“I’ve met them,” he says all of a sudden. Tooru doesn’t move. “But we missed each other and I don’t even remember what they look like. Happy?”

Tooru moves until he’s lying down on his back, looking at Iwaizumi’s eyes. He smiles.

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan,” he says, and he’s being honest. _So he does feel the same as I do_ , he thinks. “I know the feeling. I also met mine when we were very little and I think I dream about them sometimes.”

“Them?”

“I don’t remember if they were a boy or a girl, there were so many people,” he chuckles even though there’s a lump in his throat and tears are already pooling in his eyes. “It’s bullshit. This whole system, this whole destined-ones thing. Utter bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi laughs. “Is that why you hide your wrists?”

“Isn’t it the same thing you do?” he shoots back and Iwaizumi almost flinches.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t want people to know their name. It feels personal and I don’t want anyone to think poorly of me, looking down on me just because _oh, poor him, he lost his one chance at finding his other half_. Fuck them.”

Tooru sniffs, but he feels something tugging his lips up nonetheless. _Yeah_ , he thinks. Fuck them and fuck Hajime, whoever they were. Fuck Iwaizumi’s soulmate as well. They didn’t need them to be happy, to be whole. They’d do their own thing and they’d be happy with them or without them.

He sits up and stares at Iwaizumi, his eyes scanning every inch of his face. _His eyes are pretty_ , he thinks. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up thinking that whoever was Iwaizumi’s soulmate had been missing out.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, you know?” he says, wiping away the tears that ended up streaming across his cheeks. “You sounded like a brute when you first moved in and I admit I considered asking for another roommate.”

“Oh?” he smiles triumphantly. “Is that so? What made you change your mind?”

“You,” he shrugs.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he giggles. “You take care of me. We’re both losers who ended up missing their chance with their soulmates and here we are, talking about how we can be happy without them even though we’ll always carry their names on us. I worry for them, I check my wrist every morning and every night because I want them to keep on living, I want them to be happy even if we never meet again. I sometimes dream about them, a faceless person, a silhouette, so far away that I end up screaming into the void until I wake up. I dream about their eyes even though I’m not so sure what they look like anymore. And I bet you feel the same way about your soulmate. I’m glad we managed to talk about this.”

“Wow,” Iwaizumi chuckles, sliding his computer out of his lap. “You know, I dream about them sometimes as well. I remember how soft their hair was and how excited they seemed to be.”

“So you also don’t remember if it was a boy or a girl,” Tooru points out and he nods.

“Too many people,” he sighs. “We might have been destined to be losers, Oikawa…”

“Yeah,” he sighs before flopping down onto his bed again. “We might have…”

* * *

He smells coffee first thing in the morning.

His stomach growls loudly and he whines, covering himself with his duvet. Their dorm room isn’t big but they somehow managed to get a coffee machine and a double hot plate just because. Tooru found out soon enough that Iwaizumi liked to wake up earlier than he needed to only so he could jog – and he also found out he was a loud guy, especially when he was making breakfast. And even though it wouldn’t have bothered him in normal circumstances, now it did.

He’d been out late because apparently Daichi wanted his help to choose a gift for Koushi and needed _him_ , specifically, and he only went because _well_ , who’d refuse when they were promised a nice dinner _and_ dessert?

He just wasn’t expecting to get home after 2AM.

And that’s why Iwaizumi’s loud humming bothers him, that’s why he tries to muffle his voice with his duvet, that’s why he sits up and scans the room after him only to find him at the doorstep, a smug smirk plastered on his face and holding two steaming mugs.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he says, voice raspy and low. “I made you coffee. I figured you’d probably be hungover after getting home so late. Fun night?”

Tooru sticks his tongue out. “I didn’t go out drinking, Iwa-chan…”

“Oh?” he chuckles, giving him the mug. It’s warm against his skin and Tooru almost purrs. “So, what? Booty call?”

“Is that what you think of me?” he giggles before taking a sip.

“Well, it’s not like you can’t do that…” he reasons and Tooru nods. “Maybe I should go out sometime. Find someone to spend time with that doesn’t smell like takoyaki.”

He _does_ smell like takoyaki – but only because he got to his dorm so late last night and didn’t manage to think about anything else that wasn’t getting under his duvet and _sleep, finally!_

“You’re so mean first thing in the morning, Iwa-chan!” he pouts, holding the mug to his face. “I was out helping a friend, if you must know. He wanted my opinion on gifts for his boyfriend since we know each other for so long.”

“Oh, so Shittykawa _can_ be a good friend after all,” he teases.

“What is _up_ with you today? So mean!”

“What do you mean?! I brought you coffee!”

“And now you’re insulting me! That’s being _mean_ , Iwa-chan! That’s why you don’t have a girlfriend…”

“As if you’re any better, Shitty Oikawa.”

He pretends he’s insulted. He pretends he doesn’t like it when he calls him like that – because, honestly, he _should_ be enraged, should tell him how weird these nicknames are, but even though the words are rash, even though they sound mean and horrible, he’s always smiling sweetly down at him when he says it. He’s never wearing that frown when he says it.

So he pretends he doesn’t like it even though he does. Just a little bit.

And it’s nice, getting him to bring him coffee in bed sometimes. The first time he did it was when he had a huge presentation and had spent the first thirty minutes after he woke up just staring at the ceiling, trying to calm his heart down so he could breathe properly before getting up.

The second time was when he had a nightmare and woke up with a scream. He had been _so_ worried Tooru thought he’d start crying along with him. It was barely past 3AM but he sat next to him on his bed and brought him coffee and they talked about nothing in particular until Tooru managed to fall asleep again. And when he woke up the next day, Iwaizumi was on the doorstep holding two mugs.

After that, it had become part of their routine.

“Don’t you have class today?” Tooru asks curiously, eyeing him through the steam.

“No,” he sighs, sitting down next to him. It’s not unusual for him to do that, but Tooru still feels his heart missing a beat. “You should know my schedule by now, shouldn’t you? What a lousy roommate I’ve gotten…”

“ _Rude_ , Iwa-chan!” he protests even though a smile tugs his lips up. “I’m the best roommate ever, you know? A lot of people would _kill_ to see me first thing in the morning!”

“Yeah, right” he rolls his eyes and playfully smacks him on the chest. “You drool a lot when you sleep and you sometimes talk in the middle of the night. Talk about creepy, will you? Sometimes you wake me up with your nonsense talk about aliens and pancakes.”

Tooru feels his cheeks burn and tries to hide himself with his mug. Iwaizumi is smiling softly at him and the sight makes something tug at his heart, makes something weirdly cool pool up in his tummy and all of a sudden he feels dizzy. _Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep_ , he thinks. He has to get up and he has to get ready for class – but he doesn’t want to, not really.

“Don’t _you_ have a lecture today?” he pokes him – _hard_.

“Don’t wanna,” he whines, pouting. “I want to stay home and have Iwa-chan spoil me with ramen and snacks.”

Iwaizumi throws his head back and laughs, shaking his head. Tooru allows himself to chuckle along with him, his coffee long forgotten because _damn_ , he thinks, _his voice does_ something _to my body_. Green eyes flock back to his and Tooru shivers unconsciously, blinking lazily at him. He thinks that maybe they could keep what they have, even if they do find their destined ones someday. Maybe they could make do with each other if they didn’t find them in the end. Maybe they were destined for each other in the most fucked up way there was.

In that moment, he didn’t mind that he lost his opportunity to stick around his Hajime. He didn’t mind all of those sleepless nights, those outbursts of anxiety whenever he heard someone mentioning their soulname and those awful moments in which he wanted to rip his own heart out so it stopped hurting.

“You’re a spoiled brat, do you know that?”

“You love me, Iwa-chan,” he giggles childishly, handing him the mug.

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes sparkle with something Tooru doesn’t quite understand.

* * *

“I’m in love,” he says, all of a sudden, and two pairs of eyes flock to his face.

He didn’t know why he had agreed to go out with the two of them, but they promised him they’d buy him tea and cookies and he couldn’t deny it. He didn’t know why the tug in his heart got worse and worse every day, why it seemed to burn whenever he saw Daichi and Koushi or Makki and Mattsun being all lovey-dovey with each other, why it seemed like he was going to _die_ when he finally got to his dorm room and saw Iwaizumi looking up at him with a soft smile on his face as if he’d been waiting for that the whole day.

“Oh?” Daichi shoots at him. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone”

“I’m not,” he shrugs between his sips.

Koushi furrows his brows and Tooru sees the exact moment in which they finally understand what he’s talking about, just _who_ managed to snatch him away when he had sworn to himself he wouldn’t let himself get swept off his feet.

“Tooru…” Koushi starts off.

“No, it’s fine,” he chuckles. “I know it won’t matter, I know it’s stupid. _Eventually, you’ll find your soulmate and these feelings will go away_. I know that. But I haven’t found them ever since that day so many years ago. I think I might be okay indulging myself for the time being.”

Daichi rests his elbows on the table and looks at Tooru softly, as if he’s trying to read him, trying to make him spill everything about this newfound love of his. He shakes his head and turns his attention to his tea once again, questioning why he even cared to tell them about it in the first place. It’s not like they would understand, being together for months now, and it’s not like it would change anything.

It’s not like he’d have the courage to confess in the first place.

“What’s their name?” both of them ask at the same time and Tooru almost spits out his tea.

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know,” he giggles with an arched eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t confess.”

“Oh, so it’s _that_ kind of love…” Daichi murmurs.

“Have they found their soulmate?”

“Not that I know of,” he shrugs – even though he knows the person in question _has_ , even though he knows they’re both the same. He just doesn’t want to tell them that. “But it’s fine. I’m just waiting for the inevitable, to be honest. I just like to be around them and they make me feel safe. It’s not like I need them to live, anyway. If they came up to me tomorrow saying they found their destined one, great, good for them. I’ll keep on living on my own. No big deal.”

“I’m amazed at how controlled you are in regards to urges and stuff” Daichi hums and before Tooru can even process what he just said, Koushi slaps him in the chest and scolds him. “What? I’m serious. You’ve never done anything with literally anyone? Not even a kiss?”

“No?”

“ _Really?”_ he widens his eyes and Koushi shakes his head, hiding his face in his hands. “But don’t you have, like… needs and stuff?”

“Well” he shrugs. “I have two perfectly functioning hands as well, you know? It’s not like I need someone to blow me off or anything like that to make it enjoyable. I also never saw someone else with those eyes until…”

“Until?”

“That was a trick question,” he squints at him. “You were trying to get me to say their name. I’m not saying it, Sawamura. Nice try, though. Kou-chan, control your boyfriend.”

They giggle and Tooru shakes his head. _Maybe I should start going out with Makki and Mattsun, for a change of pace_ , he thinks. And he shakes his head at the thought. They would definitely be even worse than the two idiots he’s sat in front of and that would just make everything even worse than it already is, he thinks, because he just realized he’s fallen in love and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. Especially because people were destined for each other and he didn’t feel like that was the case for them. Not that he’d be able to find his Hajime, either way.

“That’s incredibly upsetting, though,” Daichi munches on a cookie. “I mean, you’re a freshman and you don’t know your soulmate. What’s stopping you from going crazy and fucking everyone?”

“The fact that I’m kind of liking someone?” he chuckles. “Sawa-chan, you’re so _naughty_.”

“You’re a prude, Tooru,” he rolls his eyes. Koushi is still hiding his face behind his hands. “Well, I’m still right. Nothing’s stopping you from getting it on with someone. Didn’t you ever think about it?”

“Daichi,” Koushi reprimands him and Tooru giggles.

“I _have_ ,” he admits, scratching his head. “But it seemed worthless if it wasn’t the one whose name is written on my wrist. Until this guy showed up and threw every ounce of reason I have in me out of the window.”

“Romantic,” Koushi chuckles.

“He’s a brute, actually,” Tooru reasons. “But sometimes he can be very sweet.”

“Oh, it’s a guy, then,” both of them say in unison and Tooru wants to die.

They keep going back and forth like that for a few minutes, asking him weird questions to make him spill something else about this _guy of his_ , as Daichi had put it. Koushi just chuckled along with him, sometimes slapping him softly on the shoulder when he thought he’d gone too far and Tooru could only shake his head. These guys would be the death of him in the most unpleasant way possible.

It’s only when Koushi mentions something about the thousand essays he has to write or how unexpectedly boring one of his professors is that Daichi sits up and Tooru sees something flashing in his eyes. _I’ve been there_ , Tooru thinks. Because sometimes they forget they have to actually _study_ , when everything is so new and exciting – and he thinks it must be especially true for them, having met each other not even a week after classes started.

Lucky bastards.

“Right, I think I have to go back now,” Daichi huffs, downing the last few drops of his tea. “I have a date with thermodynamics this evening and I’d probably regret it if I were to miss it.”

“Sounds sexy,” Tooru giggles.

“Wish me luck,” he sighs before crouching down to peck Koushi on the lips.

“You two are disgusting,” he rolls his eyes and Koushi sticks his tongue out at him.

* * *

“Iwa-chan, do you ever want to get married?”

He doesn’t know why he asked about it, but they’re cuddling on Tooru’s bed, the movie they were supposed to be watching long forgotten. They do that often, snuggling at night, breathing in each other’s scent, feeling each other’s warmth – but they don’t comment on it and none of their friends know. Supposedly. Because he might have said something to Koushi and Makki when they met up for lunch the other day. Maybe.

Green eyes flock back to his face and Tooru feels his heart pounding on his chest. Sometimes he thinks it’s _so unfair_ that there’s someone out there who was destined for _this_ guy when his heart is already locked up for him only.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, fingers still playing with his curls.

“It’s an innocent question, Iwa-chan,” he shrugs. “Have you ever thought about it?”

Iwaizumi hums. “I’ve never given much thought, I guess. I think it depends on what my partner would want.”

“Your soulmate?” he asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Not necessarily,” he chuckles. “I don’t know if I’ll ever meet them again. I can make it work with another soulmateless person, can’t I?”

“Iwa-chan, are you proposing?” he giggles and gets himself a smack in the head as an answer. “You’re so mean, Iwa-chan…”

“As if I’d want to marry you,” he scowls, but Tooru knows he’s joking because his voice is soft and his fingers are still playing with his hair, still lulling him to sleep, his arms are still around him. “Have you?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever thought about wanting to get married?”

Tooru had.

Ever since he began to understand what it meant to have a soulmate, ever since he began to dream about what they’d look like. He thought about flowers and wedding gowns and suits because he wanted that day to come, he wanted to see them dressed up nicely for him and wanted to show everyone he had found the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, soulbond or not.

“I've thought about it,” he admits, snuggling closer to him. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

“You don’t think you could make it work with someone else?” he asks.

“I don’t know. It sounds like a hassle, to be honest.” Tooru giggles. “It’s just… thinking about how destiny could run us over, you know? We might be happily married or whatever and one day their soulmate shows up out of fucking nowhere and they decide they’re done with me for whatever reason there is because _fuck_ , their soulmate just showed up, you know? It just sounds like I’m bound to get hurt either way. Or maybe I’ll find mine and I’ll be torn between keeping what I have with said person or letting it all go to pursue something else with the one person whose name is on my wrist. I don’t know.”

“It’s not written down that you’re bound to fall in love with your soulmate, though.” Iwaizumi reasons. “Sometimes you end up hating them and sometimes you end up falling head over heels. It’s not a given that they’ll want to be with their soulmate, or _you_ , by that matter. And even if they do, sometimes they’re only bound to be friends. There are a lot of different ways for people to be destined to each other, Shittykawa.”

“Yeah, but still,” he sighs, throwing his arm around Iwaizumi’s waist and snuggling closer to him. “I think I’m a very possessive person? It would bother me a lot. I think I’d feel like a nuisance, somehow.”

“Hm?” he chuckles. “What’s up with that?”

Tooru doesn’t mean to, but he giggles along with him. They’re intertwined under Tooru’s blankets and he doesn’t think he’s even been this comfortable before. Iwaizumi’s arms are strong but soft and he’s used them as a pillow more often than not, these last few days, and none of them really mind. His bed is wider than Iwaizumi’s and Tooru finds himself expecting him to slide under his blankets late at night and hug him from behind.

It’s not weird, Tooru tells himself. He did that all the time with his friends. It shouldn’t be weird. It’s _not_ weird – even if Makki tells him it is, even if Mattsun looks at him weirdly because it’s _not_ weird and he just thinks they don’t know anything about what friends do. He used to do that with Makki when they were little, he reminds them. But Makki shrugs and says _that’s when we were kids, Tooru_.

“I wouldn’t want to be in the way,” he sighs. “Would you?”

“No,” is all he says back.

Tooru didn’t even notice when he fell asleep.

He didn’t wake up when Iwaizumi got up, when he made his way to the door and started chatting with whoever it was that decided it would be a great idea to drop by someone else’s dorm room that late.

He only woke up when he heard it.

“Can you shut up?” he asks in a whisper. “My roommate is asleep!”

“ _Come on,_ Hajime!” they say and Tooru swears he’s going to die, heart pounding. “You’re no fun, you know? We’ve been going out for drinks every few nights and you refuse to go out with us. Are you perhaps banging your roomie?”

Tooru wants to scream.

“Can you leave? He’ll wake up” he sighs. Soon after that, he hears the door closing and his hurried steps towards his bed. “Oikawa?”

He has to hold himself back, has to keep his tears inside, has to gulp down the lump in his throat because _no way, no way,_ no _freaking_ way. He closes his eyes and almost shivers when he feels his presence on top of him, watching him closely. _This is torture_ , he thinks. _This is so wrong_ , he thinks. _Why did the universe decide it had to be me?_

He almost yelps when he feels soft lips against his forehead, when he feels his light touches to his cheeks, tracing along his lips. He almost wants to open his eyes and reach upwards so he can have a taste of him. He wonders what he tastes like, if he’d taste like coffee or mint. But he doesn’t do anything. Partially because he can’t move, partially because he’s afraid he’ll start crying at any second now. He doesn’t do anything.

And eventually, Iwaizumi goes back to his bed.

* * *

Tooru thinks to himself that somehow he wishes he had never understood what was going on inside his chest, what was going on inside his _head_. He wishes he had never understood that he’s fallen head over heels for his roommate, the quiet and harsh Iwa-chan that scolds him when he speaks too loudly or when he gets home later than usual, the sweet and soft Iwa-chan that brings him breakfast in bed, plays with his hair when he can’t sleep and stays with him throughout the night when he has a nightmare.

Because it’s hell, knowing you’re in love.

Especially when you’re sharing a room, Tooru thinks. Because sharing a room with the one you desire the most is bound to be a disaster, is bound to go up in flames in the worst way possible. Tooru thinks it’s horrible and yet so warm and inviting – and that’s the problem. Because when you fall in love with the flames, you’re bound to be attracted to it, you’re bound to get closer and closer and _closer_ , and that’s not good, there is no way it’s good, but you do it anyway because _it’s so beautiful_ and you want it so badly. So you do it anyway. And you get hurt. You get hurt and there’s no one there to make it better because there’s only the one who’s causing the room to burst into flames and you’re stuck in a rut, you’re stuck with the flames and the _hurt_ and it’s _oh, so conflicting_ Tooru thinks he’s going to die.

And he might as well.

That’s why, when he arrives at his dorm later than what would be considered acceptable, he halts before he opens the door. A few days prior, he heard Iwaizumi talking to a few people right outside of their dorm, right before he left for class. Of course he would fall for someone when he knew his soulmate was _probably_ lost in the world – after all, he still didn’t know. He still thought his destined one was somewhere out there, far away from him, but Tooru knew better.

He thought about _his_ Iwa-chan, his _Hajime_ , for fucks sake, embracing someone else, bringing them breakfast in bed, whispering sweet words in their ears late at night, playing with their hair, and it _hurt_ , it hurt so bad Tooru felt like he had been punched in the gut. He hadn’t gone to class that day. He stayed in and ignored all of his attempts to talk to him – he hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered, hadn’t done anything other than crying and burying himself inside his duvet.

Love sucked, he decided right then.

He already knew all about it – knew his favorite food, his favorite movie, his favorite drink. He knew all there was to know about him, except for the fact that maybe he didn’t know him as well as he would’ve liked to, because now he had fallen in love with someone and Tooru didn’t know who it was.

It hurt so bad.

They hadn’t cuddled ever since and he wasn’t bringing him coffee in the mornings. They didn’t stay in and watched movies they ended up throwing aside in the middle. They didn’t share stuff anymore – and Tooru sometimes thought that might’ve been his fault for not knowing how to deal with it.

He _could_ be someone else’s Hajime, after all.

It hurt.

“Are you going on a date?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

Green eyes shoot up at him and a smug smile tugs his lips up. Tooru feels something icky and unpleasantly hot flooding his insides and he knows exactly what that is.

“Would you get jealous if I said I am?”

“Why would I?” he tries to chuckle but it sounds choked and weird.

“I’m not,” he sighs. “I’m meeting up with a friend from high school today. Why?”

Tooru shakes his head.

And then he sighs.

There’s so much he wants to tell him, so much he wants to ask. _Are they pretty? When did you meet? Do you not think about your soulmate anymore? Do you think you’ll ever find them again? What do you think you’d do if you never saw them again? Are you really going to give up on your soulmate for someone you just met?_

He knows he’s being unreasonable, he knows it’s stupid.

But he can’t help it.

_Who are you in love with? Are they enough to make you forget about the name on your wrist? Are you going to cover it up until the day you die?_ He doesn’t ask any of that, but simply thinking about those things makes something burn inside him, slowly climbing up until he feels the familiar burn behind his eyes.

“Iwa-chan,” he huffs, hot tears pooling up in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks. “What is the name that's written on your wrist?”

“Why are you asking me that? I thought we decided we wouldn’t ask each other this kind of stuff. We agreed on it after talking about how randomly stupid this whole thing is…” he chuckles and Tooru can almost see how nervous he is simply because the frown isn’t tugging his eyebrows close together and he’s biting his bottom lip so hard it’s become white. “What’s gotten into you?”

Tooru wants to laugh, wants to tell him he might be going insane because _why didn’t he notice it sooner?_ But he just stands there, knees threatening to buckle under his weight, hands shaking and lungs on fire. He wants to agree with him, tell him it _is_ a shitty, preposterous system and that, yeah, he’d very much like to forget all about it and keep on living as if he doesn’t have a permanent reminder of someone he’s supposed to share his life with.

But he doesn’t do any of that.

He falls to the floor and the tears finally trickle down his cheeks, hot and uncomfortable, and Tooru _sobs_ , hiding his face and letting himself fall forward, shaking his head and thinking _just why the hell am I the one going through this, of all the people in the world?_

“Oikawa,” he hears his voice, so sweet and soft and _so close_ and he wants to punch him because _this is not the time_ but he can only cry and cry and _cry_ because it hurts so bad he’s not even sure he’s breathing anymore. “What happened? Did you find your soulmate?”

“Iwa-chan,” he whimpers, shaking his head. “Who’s your soulmate?”

He’s not sure he understood because his voice sounds wrecked in the worst way possible and he _hates_ it. He’s not sure he understood because he doesn’t know how to speak, all of a sudden, because every fiber of his being _hurts_ and it’s like he’s being immersed in hot lava and there’s nowhere he can escape to because _this is home_ and simply saying _Iwa-chan_ burns his lungs because now he knows his name and now he knows everything there is to know about this whole thing and _the universe must hate him so much_ , he thinks.

“Why are you asking this?” he repeats the question and Tooru manages to chuckle, the sound choked and followed by a sob. “Why are you thinking so hard about that? We agreed we wouldn’t talk about it and we would live on as if they weren’t there. What’s gotten into you?”

“Who. Is. Your. Soulmate?” he looks up, eyes dull. “It’s a simple question.”

“It’s a stupid question”

“Do you want to know mine?”

“No,” he says, almost in a whisper, looking away from him. “Alright.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but drops to his knees and looks Tooru in the eye and he’s sure he’s dying right there because there is absolutely _no way_ his heart didn’t stop right then. And when he looks down, Tooru almost whimpers because he wants to drown in the thunderstorm that’s rolling inside his eyes, he wants to submerge himself in everything he has to offer.

He doesn’t say anything but he rolls the sleeves of his jumper up so Tooru can see his wrist.

And in the dim lit room, Tooru gasps.

Because he sees his name there – and it shouldn’t have come as a surprise because he _knew_ , ever since he found out what his first name was, ever since he started to feel his heart thump whenever he called him, voice raspy in the mornings and sweet at night, ever since he started to bring him breakfast in bed on the weekends because _tell me the truth, I’m the best roommate ever_.

“Happy now?” he asks.

Tooru doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know how to. _Yes, I’ve been waiting for you for the last eleven years and just_ now _you decide to come clean about this? Yes, I’ve been dreaming about the day I’d meet you again. Yes, even though I told myself I’d have to live with the pain that came with the realization that I let you go without even knowing your name. Yes, I’ve been waiting for you to realize I’ve known all along. Yes, I’ve been meaning to tell you everything ever since your noisy friends came over and started shouting your name in their drunken hazard._

But, most of all, he wants to say that _yes, and I think I’ve fallen for you, soulname or not._

He doesn’t, though.

“Will you show me yours as well, then?” he asks, looking away, and Tooru sees a blush spreading through his cheeks. “This is all stupid.”

“Iwa-chan?” he sobs. Green eyes flock back to his face and he manages to smile up at him, rolling up his sleeves and reaching up to coop his face in one of his hands. “Iwa-chan, tell me your first name. _Please_ , tell me your first name.”

He widens his eyes, biting his bottom lip so hard Tooru thinks he’ll draw blood. He closes his eyes and their foreheads touch – and _Iwa-chan is so warm_ , Tooru thinks. _Iwa-chan is a brute and he’s harsh and rough but he’s so warm and so invitingly comfortable and so Iwa-chan_ , he thinks. Because _yes_ , it hurts. And at the same time, it’s so good Tooru thinks he’ll die.

Because he’s known for some time now. Maybe ever since they started to cuddle whenever Tooru had a nightmare. Maybe ever since he started bringing him breakfast in bed every morning. Or maybe ever since he stepped into their dorm room and bitched at him for being too loud. Or maybe he was an idiot and only managed to put the puzzle pieces together when his drunk friends showed up at their door in the middle of the night, spouting nonsense and his name over and over and _over_. Or maybe, somehow, he’s always known.

“ _Iwa-chan,”_ he whines as hot tears trickle down his cheeks.

“Hajime” he says in a whisper and Tooru shivers. He wraps his arms around him and hugs him tightly – he has always known, deep inside of him, just as the stories always said he would. “Are you alright?”

“ _Hajime,”_ he sobs even though there’s a smile on his face, even though he wants to get up and scream to the world that _yes, he finally found his Hajime_ , that _yes, he has been living with him for a whole semester now and it’s the best thing that has ever happened to him_. “Look at my soulname.”

“What’s gotten into you today?”

“ _Please_ , look at my soulname,” he whines, dropping his head on his shoulder, inhaling the subtle smell of coffee mixed with his cologne, the oh-so-distinct Hajime smell he’s grown to love so much.

He hears a gasp and strong hands hold him in place afterwards, bringing him closer and closer until it’s _so_ hard to breathe – and yet. _Yet_ , he wants him to bring him even closer, wants them to become one in the most literal sense of the word because the universe is a bitch and this whole system is fucked up and _yet_ they found their way back to each other, ever since that one day, ever since they spent an entire day giggling along with each other, dragging each other to where they’d like to play at.

Tooru hates it, that knot in his stomach, the lump in his throat, because he wants to cry out, he wants to say the words, but nothing comes out because he’s sobbing and whining and clutching Hajime’s shirt in his fists, burying his face on his neck and the tears just _won’t stop_.

He feels a wet patch on his shoulder and realizes Hajime has been crying as well. It must be a pitiful sight, he thinks. Two grown men on their knees, holding tightly to each other as if they can’t let go, as if they think that, if they do, they’ll never find each other again. Hajime buries his hand on Tooru’s head, holding him still, holding him tight.

“How could I not notice?” he whispers and Tooru shivers. “ _Tooru, Tooru, Tooru_ …”

He repeats it so many times, over and over and over and over again, until it stops making sense and all he can hear is random syllables mashed together. They’re both crying and none of them dare to speak anything other than each other’s names in between their sobs, in between their cries, because _it’s finally happening_ and s _till_ , it hurts so much they think their hearts are being ripped out of their chests.

It hurts but it feels weirdly comfortable.

It hurts but they want it so much.

It hurts and hurts and hurts.

It hurts and they don’t know just how long they were there until Tooru lets his weight drop onto the one and only he’d been looking for all along, until they’re both a mess, still embracing each other, lying down on the floor. They’re staring at each other when Tooru sniffs, trying to hide his face on Hajime’s chest, but he doesn’t let him – he holds his chin up with his thumb and Tooru thinks he’s definitely going to die right then because _fuck_ , he’s so much more than what he’s dreamt of all along, so much better than what he thought he’d get.

“How long have you known?” he asks in a whisper. Tooru closes his eyes.

“I didn’t,” he sighs. It takes him a couple of seconds to look up at those ridiculously beautiful eyes again. “I had a hunch after that day your friends showed up. They called you Hajime. I just… I thought it would be nice if it ended up being you.”

Hajime nods, a soft smile on his face. “I love you,” he says softly, as if it’s not something _important_ , as if he’s just stating that _hey, it’s sunny outside_ , and Tooru thinks he’s having a heart attack. “I still think you’re loud and annoying and you still drool in your sleep. I still don’t like having to clean up after you sometimes and I’d appreciate it if you stopped the weird sleep-talking. But I think I don’t mind that all that much if your face is the first thing I see when I wake up, if I can touch you like this every day. I love you.”

Tooru blinks up at him, mouth hanging open. And then he giggles.

“Iwa-chan, you’re so cheesy!”

“Wha–!” he snorts and pinches him on the tip of his nose. “Here I was trying to be all cute and stuff because we finally found each other again…”

“Technically, that happened a few months ago” Tooru points out.

“… _and_ you’re being an ass and jumping over my heartfelt confession and calling me cheesy! I want another soulmate” he chuckles. “This is unacceptable!”

“Iwa-chan,” he whispers.

“Should I keep calling you Shittykawa as well?”

“And _I’m_ the one who’s being an ass?!” he giggles. “Iwa-chan, so mean!”

“So I’m back to being Iwa-chan?”

“You’ll always be my Iwa-chan,” he sighs in contempt, nuzzling the side of his neck. “I’ve dreamt about your eyes a lot. I love their shade of green and I love your weird frown even though it’s scary. I love your voice in the mornings, right before you have your first cup of coffee, because your voice is raspy and no one but me is allowed to hear it. I love your snarky comments even though sometimes they’re very mean.”

“It just sounds like you’re pointing out the bad stuff, though?” Hajime chuckles, playing with a strand of his hair. “Are you sure you like me?”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I’ve fallen for you ever since that day you brought me breakfast in bed for the first time, even if I didn’t know you were my soulmate by then. I thought I’d have to give you up when I heard you talking to your friends about being in love with someone.”

“Did I manage to make you jealous?”

“Stupid Iwa-chan!” he whines, playfully hitting him.

It should’ve been weird, Tooru thinks, to meet up like that after eleven years. It should’ve been weird, because they had built an entirely different relationship by covering up their soulnames, ashamed to have let their soulmates escape them. It should’ve been weird, Tooru thinks, because they ended up falling for each other despite the names on their wrists and just so happened to fall in love with the one they were destined to be with all along. It should’ve been weird, Tooru thinks, but it’s not. Because fate worked in weird ways and he didn’t like it as much as he thought he would when he was a little boy – but he’d make an exception just this once.

“Iwa-chan, do you believe in fate?” he asked once again.

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m serious here!”

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the frown go away completely before that. He didn’t ever think he’d get more attractive, if that was even possible, and his heart surely misses a beat when he blinks lazily down at him, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head to the side. _Iwa-chan should be illegal_ , he thinks.

“Fate is a bitch,” he says, shrugging. Tooru can’t help but snort. “But we found each other again, so I’ll cut it some slack.”

Tooru almost purrs when strong arms hold him close and soft touches linger on his face, on his neck, everywhere they can reach. He hums when _his Hajime_ holds his face up and stares straight into his eyes, smiling softly at him before diving down. He almost whines when their lips touch for the first time, when something cold spreads inside him and something weird starts flapping around his stomach. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _I’m so in love_.

It’s the first thing they teach you in school – this unbreakable bond, the soulname on your wrist that would connect you with your one and only, of all the people in the world. The thing they don’t teach you, though, is how amazingly surreal it feels to be embraced by your soulmate for the first time, how amazingly good it is to kiss them for the first time, to have them trace along your lips and stare lovingly back at you when you finally open your eyes.

_Fuck_ , Tooru thinks. _It was worth the wait._

**Author's Note:**

> uh, so i saw this prompt and thought about how when i was a child, being born and raised in a city that basically consists of beaches, i’d always meet so many other kids and play with them through the whole day and i’d never even know their names despite us being together all day – and of course we never met again lol so i figured it would be a pretty good way to write this story, about how terrifying it would be to meet so many different people in a single day and grow so close to them – even if you didn’t even know the basics, such as their names – and then get home and realize that, 'fuck, one of them was my soulmate??? what do i do now???'
> 
> i hope you liked it <3


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